


Morning massages

by FuryFiction



Series: Thomas & Kocoum [5]
Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Massage, Rimming, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:52:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2187282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryFiction/pseuds/FuryFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Kocoum needs a bit of help getting out of bed in the morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning massages

The morning holds the promise of a rainless day and Thomas pokes his head out of the doorway to their hut, squinting at the sun as it slowly creeps out from behind the clouds above. A perfect day for hunting it would seem -- if his ridiculous husband ever gets out of bed that is. 

He smirks at the slumbering form of the warrior who lies nearby, curled up like a giant wolf on the furs they share, snoring softly. Kocoum is usually an early riser but it was his turn with the twins last night; he has fought many a beast in his lifetime but that is nothing in comparison to a pair of shrieking infants who refuse to settle down for six straight hours. So his participation in the morning hunt seems rather unlikely; that is, until Thomas walks the short distance to the bed and sits on top of him.

‘Rise and shine, my sleeping bear. We have a long and busy day ahead of us!’

The warrior grumbles tiredly and pulls the furs over his head, curling tighter.

‘ _Kocoum_ ,’ Thomas says sternly, though the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in an effort not to laugh, ‘you have to get up. You’re supposed to be going fishing today.’

‘I’m tired.’

‘The others will be waiting for you.’

‘Then tell them that I’ve died.’

‘Koco _um_ ,’ Thomas pokes the lump formed beneath the furs, ‘I’ll sit on you all day if I have to and if you suffocate it’s not my fault.’

‘Good,’ Kocoum’s voice is muffled, ‘if you suffocate me I won’t have to go hunting.’

‘Do you want me to call Pocahontas?’

Another grumble, louder this time and Kocoum’s eyes poke out from beneath the furs, narrowing dangerously, ‘if you dare…’

‘This family needs to eat and the fish aren’t going to leap out of the water by themselves,’ Thomas folds his arms, threatening to pout, ‘now move yourself before we starve to death.’

Kocoum disappears again and turns onto his front, sending his smaller husband tumbling right off his back and onto the floor. The red head glowers at the lump in the furs, as he listens to Kocoum sniggering triumphantly and mounts him again, pulling the furs down to the native's waist so he has a clear view of that perfectly shaped back. He straddles the larger man, running his hands up Kocoum’s spine to the back of his neck as he feels the warrior give a surprised shiver beneath him. His fingertips find Kocoum’s shoulders and rub intently, relaxing all the stressed muscles that have left him feeling tense and sore for the past couple of days.

Kocoum finds something undeniably sexy about Thomas’ hands touching his skin. Those soft, pale palms caress the dark flesh, easing all discomfort and Kocoum feels a moan at the back of his throat, on the brink of spilling out. He hisses through his teeth as the scrape of nails send his senses into a tizzy and he _has_ to moan then, turning his head to the side so the boy has better access to his neck.

'Such a lazy, naughty, impolite man,' Thomas whispers against the shell of his ear, 'what on earth am I going to do with you?'

He's kissing now, tender lips rubbing over every sensitive patch of skin, teasing Kocoum to the point where he feels he will explode inside. His usually subdued demeanour shrinks into nothing and his fists curl into balls, gripping the bedding. Thomas disposes of the furs completely and Kocoum battles to remain calm as the loin cloth he sleeps in is pulled away.

'Naughty, naughty man...' Thomas parts two firm cheeks, carefully prodding the hole in between, 'oh yes...I think I'm going to have to fuck you long and hard to teach you a lesson.'

Kocoum doesn't have time to react as Thomas's tongue flickers at his entrance; circling and poking and lapping greedily until the larger man almost sobs from impatience. ‘Please…’ he finds himself whispering, his breath hot against his own knuckles as his teeth grind down on them; he hears the sound of lips smacking together and Thomas thrusts two wet fingers inside him, carefully pushing in and out, ‘please Thomas, fuck me. I need you, please...’

A pause. Then Thomas' fingers slide out with a loud _pop_ and Kocoum nearly wails. 'Later,’ Thomas dries his fingers on the warrior’s thigh and the loin cloth is replaced, ‘after you’ve taken advantage of this fine day and caught us some supper.’

Still gasping, Kocoum growls and turns over onto his back, almost sending Thomas tumbling to the floor again, ‘why I ought to-’

He is abruptly silenced as Thomas leans down to kiss him, and eventually Kocoum kisses back, despite knowing where that mouth has been. It excites Thomas to know he has such power over someone like Kocoum; that he can reduce this beast of a man to a whining, quivering mess just by using his tongue. He wonders what else he could do to have Kocoum submit to him again. A few ropes? A good spanking? He imagines Kocoum splayed over his lap, buttocks glowing red under the light and all of a sudden he's determined to make that happen.

The kiss ends and they spend the next few minutes just gazing into each other’s eyes, black meeting gentle brown as Thomas slowly leans down and brushes their noses together.

‘I love you, you great lazy brute.’

‘You’re lucky you’re such a beauty,’ Kocoum’s hands fall to Thomas’ hips, ‘otherwise I may have to use more constructive methods in dealing with your teasing,’ and then they moved to grip the right cheek of his rear. 

‘You didn’t seem to mind it a moment ago,’ the red-head snorts as colour swells into the native’s cheek, ‘as I recall you were enjoying it. You should have heard yourself –’ he begins grinding himself against the larger man, putting on the best baritone impression of his husband as he can, ‘ _please Thomas, please_ …’

He finds himself wrestled onto his back, emitting a soft " _oof_ " as his larger lover begins to nibble along his jaw. By the time Kocoum stops they are breathless, warm from their laughter, both very much awake.

The native comes close to the boy’s ear and murmurs, ‘I love you too, little one.’ 


End file.
